


“I’m sorry”

by magicalcookie664



Series: Vent stuff or something [7]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Angst, Crying, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Swearing, and stuff idk, breakup or something idk, vent - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:54:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29857008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicalcookie664/pseuds/magicalcookie664
Summary: It’s all he has.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders
Series: Vent stuff or something [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1773316
Kudos: 15





	“I’m sorry”

**Author's Note:**

> TW in the tags. 
> 
> When I say this is literally me writing so I don’t do something stupid that’s exactly what I mean. 
> 
> I hate this

Virgil's messed up. He sees that now. It would be fine if it were once, twice, maybe three times. No, he's lost count of how many times he's fucked up. It occurs to him that maybe he shouldn't be around people anymore. People shouldn't have to put up with him, especially Patton. Pat has been nothing but kind to him throughout their entire relationship and how has Virgil repaid him?

By acting like a dick. Round of applause for him, truly.

So naturally here he is, locked in his room at ass-o'clock in the morning, ruining his perfectly decent bedsheets with blood. He knows he shouldn't be doing it, that he'll regret it later - _you were 4 months clean you fucking freak_ \- but right now?

He doesn't care. He doesn't give a flying fuck about himself, about what other people think, about anything. And he doesn't care what that makes him. Why do people fucking assume that he's a nice person? Why do they fucking ignore him when he oh so kindly warns them? Why do they act so surprised when it turns out he is exactly what he says he is? Why is it such a shock?

He hates seeing the comments on Thomas' videos, harmless fans acting as if he's an innocent cinnamon roll. It makes him feel disgusting. Its not him. He's not like that. He's not their "uwu anxious baby" he's a fucking person. He's a person with struggles and problems and thoughts and emotions - _stupid stupid emotions._

He wishes he didn't have them. It would make things so much easier. Maybe then he wouldn't want to claw his skin off with his nails. Maybe then he'd be able to fucking function as a normal person for once. God. Who's he kidding? He's being so pathetic. He knows it.

He cuts deeper into his thigh, slicing through his skin, his shaky hand smearing the blood left by previous cuts.

Self harm is not beautiful. Self harm is not pretty, or aesthetic or fucking poetic.

It's his skin scarred for the rest of his life, something he'll never be rid of. It's the stinging pain when he rolls over in bed, the gross feeling of still open wounds catching on fabric, his trousers sticking to his skin. It's the sick heavy feeling of guilt choking him as Patton finds out about it, the pain on his best friend's face that he put there. It's having to wear long sleeves all the time, the phantom pains of year old scars, the incessant itching of the wounds when they heal.

He feels disgusting for it. But the thing is, he feels disgusting anyway, all the time, 24/7.

He completely detests himself, in a way that is unbearable to live with, in a way that makes him feel just so angry, so extremely angry. He finds himself set off by stupid little things. The way someone says something, the way someone acts, if things don't go the way he's comfortable with, the way that fits his planned out routine.

He can't handle it. So he yells at Patton, tells him he doesn't care about him, tells him to kill himself, that it wouldn't matter.

And then Patton's hurt and he doesn't talk to him and he cries in his room alone and Virgil keeps himself awake all night terrified he'll actually kill himself.

But he doesn't, he's so much stronger than Virgil. And Logan gives him those disappointed looks, Roman begins avoiding him and even Patton seems to act warily around him.

And Virgil has the audacity to feel sorry for himself? How pathetic. He's brought this on himself. He could've so easily been a decent person. He could've avoided everything if he'd just shut the fuck up.

They all hate him. They all hate him now and he doesn't even care. So what if he feels horrible at night, cries himself to sleep hugging himself like a pitiful piece of trash? So what if he slices his legs to oblivion, until his bedsheets are covered in red, until he can barely walk because it hurts so much? So what if his mind tells him to die, to rid the world of his measly existence?

_So what._

Strangers like him. Strangers praise him, love him, use him as their profile pictures on their social media pages. They only ever see the parts of him shown in the videos. They act like Patton did, when the two of them first became friends. Pat called him cutesy little nicknames, treated him like a child, danced around him as if he were an adorable little pet.

But Virgil asked him to stop and Patton did stop.

He slides his head into his hands, crying, tears getting in his mouth, sticky and uncomfortable as they attach to his neck. He doesn't make a sound. He will not allow himself to make a single sound. Even when he begins sobbing, he's doing so silently, spit dripping onto his bedcovers.

He begins to rock back and forth, desperately trying to find some form of comfort.

He's bleeding. He's bleeding all over his clothes and bed. He doesn't care. He doesn't care.

He hates himself. He hates himself. He fucking hates himself and he wants to die, end, disappear. He wants out. He's so sick of himself, of his brain, his thoughts, people, everything.

_How selfish of him._

He has no right to feel this way. He's the douche in this situation. He's the person in the wrong. It's always him.

They would be so much better without him.

He doesn't know who he is or what he wants. He can't seem to make up his mind. One minute he's okay, on top of the world even, everything is perfect. Then its not. Then he hates everything, hates everyone, wants to die, feels so overwhelmed by stupid little things.

One minute he's curled up with Patton, would do anything for him, then the next he just doesn't care about him, can't find it in himself to give a flying fuck about anything. That's usually when he fucks off to his room to stare at the ceiling for hours, telling anyone who gets in his way to die.

It would be better if he just didn't exist at all.

He kicks his blade off the bed, curls up into a ball, headphones sitting lopsided on his head. He cries, he cries because he's so angry at himself and he doesn't know what else to do.

He finds himself craving Patton's arms around him, though he doesn't deserve it. He hates himself for wanting it, for even considering the possibility of romantic attraction. Everyone who ever says they love anyone is pathetic. _Who the fuck wants that?_

He still hugs himself.

And if he closes his eyes to picture a version of things where it all worked out, then sue him, go on.

It's all he has.


End file.
